


A few hundred non smoked cigarettes

by Ingi



Category: This Is Not Fiction (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Spoilers of Chapter 20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4326753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/pseuds/Ingi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It took him a while to open his eyes, mainly because his head hurt like hell and there was a revolting taste in his mouth that made him cringe inwardly. That indicated booze, a lot of it, and he knew too well that his worst mistakes had been made while drunk.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A few hundred non smoked cigarettes

It took him a while to open his eyes, mainly because his head hurt like hell and there was a revolting taste in his mouth that made him cringe inwardly. That indicated booze, _a lot_ of it, and he knew too well that his worst mistakes had been made while drunk.

He groped around in search of his new bed companion, to discover there was none. That was weird. A good sign, probably, but weird. Besides, he was pretty sure he'd felt the floor under his fingers, and as cool and pleasant as it was, he didn't want to try his luck by falling asleep again; his limbs didn't ache yet, but they surely would if he spent ten hours more laying there.

When he finally opened his eyes, the room he found wasn't his, but it wasn't a bar either, or someone else's porch. Confused, he tried to sit up and immediately fell down again, head spinning.

"Ugh..."

"Landon" a voice said, and a moment later, Isaiah's face appeared in his line of vision, as stern as ever.

Landon grinned, ignoring the soundless scream of pain that his muscles gave at the effort. He cleared his throat, recovered his ability to talk from the deepest corners of his mind, and said, cheerful "Good morning, sunshine, the world says..."

"Idiot!"

"Uh, does it? Rude" he mumbled, already exhausted, and squinted at Selby.

She was standing next to Isaiah, even if Landon would've sworn that she wasn't there a second before, but hey, the girl was the sneakiest human being he'd met yet. The bad news were, she kept glaring at him in a way that made him shiver. And Isaiah wasn't trying to calm her down, which probably meant he had managed to piss him off too; with that deadpan expression, it was hard to tell.  


That was the moment his brain helpfully decided to remind him why he wasn't trespassing a stranger's home, and the speed images came back worsened his headache. _Holy shit, no. No, no, no, no._  


"We should be the ones congratulating you for waking up" Isaiah said. "It's half past eight."

"In the _afternoon_ " Selby added with a frown. "Do you need the year, too?"

Landon knew he should be listening, because if he hadn't dreamt it all, they both were definitely very pissed at him, and not above driving back and leaving him there to get by how he could. And yet he hadn't heard a single word. _Juls, Juls, Juls, Juls_ , was what repeated itself in his head, over and over, like a well learned song. That was how he got the strength to get up, as wobbly as he did.

"Where's Julian?" he blurted out.

Selby and Isaiah stared at him as if he'd just insulted their mothers, but all he could think about was the boy's warm body against his, his hands pressed against his chest; they were small and chubby, like a child's, and Landon had never wanted anything more than to intertwine those short fingers with his. He should have woken up curled around him, maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks in jest (or so he'd say, anyway), but instead he'd gone to his party and gotten drunk as hell, and he had the impression he already knew where that envelope with his photo had gone.

He fumbled with his pockets until he found the pack of cigarettes. There were a lot left (he really didn't smoke as often), and he had to control himself not to light up two at the same time. "Where's Julian?" he repeated, inhaling as deeply as he could, and if his eyes watered a little bit... well, that was the smoke.

"I don't get you, Landon" Selby mumbled. Her lips were trembling, but he couldn't decide if it was in anger or if she was holding back tears. "I swear, I don't get you. I heard rumours about you, of course, before I took the job. But all I knew for sure was you were a troublemaker, and I _liked_ it, I thought it would be fun. But I didn't know you were this cruel."

"Selby?"

"I can't do this" she said, but she wasn't even looking at him, she was looking at Isaiah.

At his nod, she shook her head in defeat and walked out of the hotel room. She didn't look back, not even once. Landon would have felt it like a blow to the chest, but he was too busy thinking _Great, now it's when Isaiah murders me_. He had never trusted nice guys; they were always the ones who went psycho when angered but never went to jail because nobody could believe they'd hurt a fly.

And no matter how expressionless Isaiah's face was, Landon was certain his life was on the line.

"I don't know where Julian is" he inexplicably answered, after a short silence. "But I know where he was ten hours ago. Here, calling his mother and asking her if she'd pick him up, because he didn't want to be trapped with you in a car."

So his life _was_ on the line, after all. Only Isaiah had chosen a much more painful manner to end him.

He toyed with his cigarette, avoiding his eyes "Why...?"

"You lied to us" Isaiah interrupted him. "You _played_ with us."

"I didn't!" he screamed, his facade breaking into pieces. "It wasn't that. You have to listen, I-"

"At first we thought it was a joke" Isaiah continued, as if he hadn't heard him, "but it just fit, you see? Everything you knew, all those things you got for Julian... Not even you are that good at stealing. And you came here with a photo of you and the silly hearder of 'the real Sydney Morgan', and you said you were a dick. That was what made us believe you, actually. Selby said your ego was too big to put yourself down without reasons."

"I don't remember that" Landon admitted, the words like ash in his mouth.

Isaiah raised a brow, half smiling "The only time you say the truth, and you were too drunk to remember." Landon kept smoking quietly, so Isaiah continued "You also said Julian should date me. At least I think you did; it was right before you passed out and it was kind of difficult to understand you by then."

He shrugged "I was right, though."

"No, you were not. If you're too hungover to remember, I'll tell you I have a girlfriend. Since _two years ago_." Isaiah snorted "Besides, Julian is my friend. I don't have any feelings of that kind for him, unlike _you_. I have to say, before I'd have supported you, if only because it was getting painful to watch, but after what you pulled off..."

It was more merciful than what Landon expected; he wouldn't have been surprised by a punch to the face. And yet he couldn't leave it like that, it didn't matter how much he wanted to run away from that room, because there was still one thing that concerned him.  


"Is Julian okay?"

Isaiah sighed, a deep weariness showing in his face "What do you think?"

"He's not."

"It's funny you seem to care about him so much, considering you didn't hesitate to-"

Landon didn't even let him finish the sentence. "I didn't want to hurt him" he said, crushing the cigarette against the nearby ashtray. "I didn't want to hurt any of you." _But especially not him._ "Look, I'll explain, I'll-"

"Not to me" Isaiah shook his head, stepping away. "I don't want to hear another word from you until you talk with Julian. Until you apologize to him, actually, in the most pathetic way you can think of. And you'd better be convincing."

The mere idea hurt, a suffocating feeling clawing its way up his chest. He could still feel the ghost of his scent, even under the smell of smoke (it occurred him then that he shouldn't have smoken, but it was too late); before falling asleep, he'd buried his nose in Julian's hair and prayed the mad beating of his heart wouldn't wake him up. Julian smelled clean, like soap, but with sweet undertones, and Landon could have kissed him.

"I love him" he found himself saying with no reason, not even knowing _why_.

His voice was raspy and sounded chocked, but Isaiah didn't comment on it. He didn't say anything, actually, and the look in his face was impossible to interpret. Still, Landon would have sworn that his eyes had softened.

He tried to walk away, to shy away from him and forget he'd ever spoken, but his feet seemed to be glued to the floor and his whole body was heavier than it had ever been. It took him a while to recognize it as fear.

"Go" Isaiah said. "Look in the nearby fast food restaurants. I'm pretty sure there's a House of Pancakes nearby."

"He never eats when he's upset" Landon replied, frowning, and was puzzled when Isaiah laughed.

"I know." _I've been around him longer than you_ was unspoken, but Landon heard anyway. "He's not just upset, though. By when he left, he was mostly angry."

Stabbing his food with viciousness he would be, then, if Landon knew him well enough. And he did. Oh, how did he. He had missed him so much during the last years, even if he hadn't allowed himself to think about it; he had put together every piece of information he found about him, gathered useless data like his meals and how many times he'd caught the flu, in an effort to keep him close. It hadn't worked as well as it should have.

Landon turned on his heel and tried really hard not to think about anything as he walked away.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, he saw him.

He was sitting next to the window, eyes focused so intently in his plate that Landon was sure his pancakes would burst into flames. His hair was in disarray, but it wasn't less lovely because of it (it was more, in any case). He was still snuggled in the sweater Landon had draped over him before he left.

Landon couldn't resist watching him, just for a while, before entering the restaurant.

Julian didn't look up when he slid in the seat in front of him; he hadn't noticed him, concentrated as he was in making sure his pancakes were as dead as possible. That up close, Landon could see his eyes were slightly red and puffed out, and even as he despised himself for making him cry, he couldn't help thinking how soft his skin looked because of tears, how vulnerable and touchable. But he wasn't allowed, he knew that.

"Juls" he called, falsely jovial.

He would have laughed at Julian's reaction, that little jump on his seat, if he hadn't felt so ashamed. Of his actions, of his longing. He couldn't tell them apart anymore.

"What... what are you doing here?" Julian asked, blinking rapidly, and in a second his face went from astonished to furious. "Don't you have better things to do than annoying me, _Sydney_?" he hissed, so bitter that suddenly Landon couldn't breathe.

"I'm not here to annoy you" he finally said, and offered him a tentative smile. "Although, knowing my record, I'll probably end up doing that anyway."

Julian just scowled, stabbing his pancakes even more viciously, if possible. "Go away, Landon."

"I don't think so. Isaiah has sent me to talk to you." _I wanted to see you._ "He wanted me to apologize."

"Did he?!" Julian's voice rose, oddly high pitched and dripping sarcasm. "Oh, I wonder what you'd have to apologize for! It's not as if you've _ruined my life_ or anything!"

Landon opened his mouth and then closed it again, startled, but finally settled for another faint smile "Juls, you're just overreacting now." It seemed to be the wrong thing to say, though. Julian looked ready to throw the plate to his head, so Landon tried to soften his comment "I mean, we're talking about an alias here, it isn't-"

"It wasn't just that! You _knew_ it wasn't! You knew how important it was to me, and I thought... I thought you..."

Julian stopped talking abruptly, face red. He was breathing in a heavy, forced way, and Landon feared he'd faint or have a panic attack in the middle of the restaurant. His hand automatically shot forward in a poor attempt at comfort, but Julian pulled away before he could reach him. "Juls..."

"Did you enjoy?" he asked in a rather hysterical manner, chuckling. "Did you enjoy making fun of me? I was totally smitten, wasn't I? Chasing a person that didn't exist... no, even better, chasing _you_ , while you pretended to help us! You must have had a blast, you-"

"I'm sorry" Landon said, twisting his hands to hold back the urge to take his pack of cigarettes out. He had the feeling it wouldn't grant him any favors.

"You're _sorry_?" Julian repeated, voice trembling. "Fuck you, Landon."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard Julian talking back at him so fiercely, but he hadn't ever heard him saying something like that. It was a testament of how much he'd unsettled him; that boy who gripped the cutlery so tightly that his knuckles were going white, who stared at him as if he were a dangerous predator he had to guard himself from... that boy wasn't Julian. He shouldn't be.

Landon had made him that way, because he was too selfish to let him go and he didn't know how to keep people without shattering them. If he had just told him, ages ago, that he had no idea of who Sydney Morgan was or how to find her, he might have been able to befriend him anyway; he would have found a way. But it was too late, now. He'd lied and schemed and _betrayed_ him.

His intention had never been to play with him, with any of them, but he had done so. And he owed them a damn big explanation.

"I wasn't trying to have a laugh at your expenses, you know?" he sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. "I wasn't. I..." he almost immediately wanted to shut up, but Julian was looking at him then as if he needed the explanation, as if he'd _believe it_. "I was just protecting myself, at first. I wanted... I wanted to talk to you, to spend time with you. I'd missed you." He smiled faintly, staring at his fingers. "It was the perfect opportunity. I thought I could give you some false clues, something interesting to do. We'd have fun together and maybe you'd remember... how you used to like me. At least I thought you did."

"You kept lying" Julian suddenly whispered. "We trusted you. Well, Isaiah didn't... but _I_ trusted you."

"I know" Landon replied, swallowing down his shame. "I tried to convince you it was useless, but it only served me to find out how much it really meant to you. I couldn't understand, I still don't, but it made everything so much harder. I didn't know how to tell you."

"But you did. You must feel terrible, considering how drunk you had to get to spill the truth."

Landon couldn't distinguish if Julian was just being sardonic or genuinely empathetic; his tone was too flat. It sounded a little lost.

"I do feel terrible" he admitted after a while. "But for different reasons. Although I _have_ a wicked hangover," he smirked at him, "I decided to confess _before_ I was drunk." _I just needed some courage, that's all._ "I knew what would happen, so I drowned the knowledge in alcohol."

He grinned again, waiting for a reaction to that (as jokingly as he'd said it, it was the truth), but Julian only shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together. At least he had left the cutlery back on the plate.

"If you knew, what did you confess now?"

His smile fell, an odd twinge of pain in his chest. "It was upsetting you" he said slowly, flushing. The urge to crack a joke to dispel the tension was almost too strong. "That was never what I..." he huffed, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry. I intended to make you happy. It just... didn't go accord to plan."

"Nothing ever does, with you" Julian snorted, but it was gentle and almost... fond. He looked at him for some moments, thoughtful, as Landon tried not to let on how it made his gaze made his skin tingle. Not even a touch was necessary; he was _that_ pathetic. "Wait! Does that mean I get to read Sydney's books before everybody else?"

Julian's eyes light up at the thought, and Landon... Landon still wanted to kiss him. He gave him his best smug smile "Of course, sweetie." Still, he couldn't help but ask "So, is my charm working? You forgive me, don't you?"

"You tricked me into buying your groceries for you once and I didn't kill you" he replied, rolling his eyes. "There's little I can't forgive you after that. And you have no charm whatsoever."

Landon hesitated only a second, too short for Julian to notice, before getting up and sitting next to him instead, an arm thrown around his shoulders. "Keep telling that to yourself, Juls" he hummed. "If I have no charm, why have you forgiven me?" Julian mumbled something, too low for Landon to hear, and that picked up his interest. "You were saying, sweetie?"

Julian clenched his teeth, his face bright red. It was extrangely endearing. "I've forgiven you... Because it was upsetting you" he finally said, proudly repeating Landon's own words, and raised a brow at him, as if challenging him.

It shouldn't have caught him out of guard, but it did. He ignored the slight trembling of his hands and let his arm fall from Julian's shoulders, smiling when he turned to face him. "Aww, were you worried, Jules?" he sing-sang, because it was what was expected of him, even if his heart couldn't quite keep still. "Did you fall for me?"

And then, oh, then, Julian's face broke into the most beautiful smile he'd seen yet, all bright and innocent and _happy_. And it was for him.

"Yes" he said, even as he got redder.

At first, Landon didn't understand. He stared at Julian, blinking, startled by the change in their game. But then it hit him like a ton of bricks, and he'd have said the ceiling had just collapsed over him but it would have been such a bad metaphor, because he felt light, lighter than ever, _alive_.

There wasn't any teasing undertone in his voice when he mumbled "Really?"

Julian nodded slowly, scooping closer, and rested his head on his shoulder with wariness. Landon wrapped an arm around his middle, shivering when Julian's nose nuzzled his neck. "You've been smoking" he complained, lips moving against his skin, and that was the moment Landon _broke_.

His free hand stroke his face from temple to cheek, until Julian shifted slightly to give him easier access. Landon took him by the chin instead, making him lift his head, and met his eyes. He couldn't quite stop smiling when Julian's reaction to him licking his lips was another blush. Oh, how he wanted to debauch him; touch him, kiss him, lick him all over, find out if he was as sweet as he appeared to be. It was almost painful to hold back.

But he had to, because Julian already trembled if he breathed too close to his skin and he really didn't want to scare him. He pressed his forehead against his, though, and beamed "I won't smoke anymore if I get a kiss."

Julian would have kicked him or ran away, before, at an offer like that. At the moment, he only scowled and said "Promise."

Landon leant closer, so their lips were barely apart. Julian still smelled sweet, even after being tainted by his own smell of smoke; it was frightening, what he could do to him. "I promise" he breathed against his lips, and he wasn't lying. "But I want a kiss for every cigarette I don't smoke."

"Okay."

It wasn't the answer he'd been expecting; it was too honest, too gentle. He would have missed Julian's snark, if it hadn't been for the way he was looking at him, with fascination, just like he looked at the things he lov-... Landon closed the last inches between their lips and kissed him. It was as exhilarating as he'd thought it would be.

"Juls" he mumbled when they broke apart, but cut himself off with a peck. "Juls, Isaiah is going to kill me."

"He'll have to get in line" Julian snorted, hands fisting his shirt.

"True. Near to death experiences always make me want to smoke, though."

"...You need another kiss?"

"A few hundreds."

"Okay."


End file.
